Chapter II - Braadrel Dargon

 

Chapter II – Braadrel Dargon

            In the distance, the sounds of whips and hard labor echo off of the enclosing mountain side and slowly escalating in volume. The red hot furnace is at full blast, as a multitude of workers slave in the intense heat to pull the many chains and levers that keep construction running. A lone man in a black leather vest, spiked leather bracers around his wrists, and long leather trousers stands at the edge of one of the many steel platforms overlooking the stream of lava far below. Chains rattle and men scream, struggling to turn the gears that open the massive gate, behind which is contained the flow of molten metal.

“What is this???” Screams the lone commandant as he walks back the platform from which he was standing. A bare-chested man is sprawled out on the edge of the platform, gasping for breath as he struggles to get up before the commandant reaches him.

“Do you think that this is a holiday??? Do you think you are getting paid by the hour? Heh,” he chuckles. “You aren’t getting paid at all so it doesn’t really matter does it?”

The man, through much effort, finally makes it back on his feet, only to collapse once more on his side. The commandant steps up to the man, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him to his feet.

“Stand up you pitiful maggot.”

The man remains silent at the Commandant’s order, unable to speak, beaten to the point of death by the grueling labor he is forced to take part in.

“Disgusting worm,” spits the Commandant. He draws his blade, slitting the man’s throat and spilling his blood out across the platform. The blood evaporates off of the platform and the Commandant’s blade in a matter of seconds.

“We have no need of those who can no longer work,” he states smoothly as he replaces his blade. “Remove his body.” Two Dargon Guards quickly remove the body, throwing it off of the platform and into the raging furnace below.

“And what are YOU staring at???” the Commandant screams to the other workers who had just witnessed the “purification”, as it was called, that had just taken place. They quickly look away and return to their grueling work, not wanting to be next.

 

            Back in his Private Chamber, the Commandant gazes out over the soon to be completed city of Braadrel Dargon, pleased with the progress. The gigantic floating citadel lies in darkness, one lone bridge connecting it to the edge of the rock wall that encircles the entire city. Cold metal spires rise from every inch of its surface towards the sky, as well as downward around the outside perimeter. Three main spires rise in a tri-formation, each one equally spaced on the outer edge of the circular megalopolis, each sprouting fire from the opening in the top. The central tower, of which the Commandant’s Chamber is located, overlooks the entire spiked fortress, towering hundreds of feet above the rest of the complex. Two curved sections of the main tower, situated three fourths of the way up, are also releasing flaming discharge from their peaks. The Commandant returns from his inspection to his study, ordained with multitudes of books. His personal library, including spellbooks and other sources of dark and arcane knowledge, would utterly overwhelm any commoner. In the center of the room stands the Central Control Panel, a real time magical representation of not only the city of Braadrel Dargon, but of the entire kingdom as well, allowing the Commandant to see any event going on at any given point in time in the kingdom, making it a paramount device in his master’s upcoming plans. He was stationed here to control and supervise the construction of his master’s great design and to watch over the kingdom while he was off treasure hunting for his gadgets that he so frequently goes off looking for.

            The Commandant paces around the room until he stops over a table and peers down at a piece of parchment. On it is the blueprints for the city, scratched out and revised many times, until finally, his master’s ambitious dream was drawn out. At that moment, a servant enters the room, breaking him of his trance of thought.

“What is it?” inquires the Commandant, not looking up from the table.

“Sir….” The servant says in a timid voice, “you might want to come see this.”

The Commandant follows the servant to his portal room, which is directly connected to the Central Control Panel. Each portal gives a more descriptive image of occurring events. On the Center Portal, The Commandant sees a two mages battling, one clearly better than the other. Using a Duplicate spell, the stronger, more agile mage deceives the other. Using a blade of pure blue energy, the superior mage undercuts the black mage, slicing his back in two. Then the portal goes blank.

“Hmm, very interesting,” muses the Commandant, “Who was that…..” Not knowing that the question was meant to be rhetorical, the servant answers,

“He was a very powerful mage, whoever he was,” says the servant, already realizing he made a mistake. The Commandant turns to him, blasting him to ashes with a flick of his finger.

“He seemed very powerful indeed……” admits the Commandant, his wicked mind already swirling with plans to get an answer to his question.

Reviews

[Zanithe]

Very good job on this chapter. I like the commandant a lot. XD